


Blaine Anderson's American Shenanigans

by WasteNoTime



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, M/M, foreign student
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-01
Updated: 2014-05-24
Packaged: 2018-01-21 12:36:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1550717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WasteNoTime/pseuds/WasteNoTime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Blaine takes part in a student exchange program he is not prepared for the language barrier, slushies, or having a beautiful yet very sad roommate. But no matter what difficulties life throws his way, Blaine tries to see the best in every situation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Blaine smiled widely when he entered his new school. He had never thought he would be excited about going to school, let alone one where he knew nobody, but this time was different. It wasn’t just a school that was new for him, it was a whole country, a continent even. He had suffered the summer passing extra slowly but he had finally made it there.

He had arrived to the States a couple of days before the academic year began so he could get used to the different time zones as well as the family that would be hosting him for the whole year. Those few days weren’t enough, not really, but he didn’t let his tiredness get in a way of enjoying this new experience.

With some difficulty he found the principal’s office and sat down by the door waiting for the man to come admit him. He heard some music getting louder and louder and soon some boy with his iPod playing at maximum volume came in and sat down next to him.

Blaine took the opportunity. “Hello,” he said with a thick accent.

The boy looked at him and snarled, “Whacha looking at, weirdo?”

“I am looking at you?” Blaine asked in confusion but decided to shake it off, feeling like he might’ve missed something. The difference in their cultures was huge so he didn’t want to assume anything too soon. “My name Blaine Anderson. Who are you?” he asked, feeling proud of himself for making his first friend in the new school before he even started going to classes.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” the boy replied, angry for some reason.

“I am Blaine Anderson,” he stated, trying to pronounce the words again more carefully in case he had been misheard. Having an accent might be more of a difficulty than he had originally thought, judging by this boy’s behaviour.

“I heard you the first time, fancy,” the boy spat, making Blaine flinch. “You a newbie?”

It took Blaine several moments but he still couldn’t figure out what the boy meant. “Yes, I am new student but I not understand what a ‘new bee’ mean? I’m Italiano, my English not too good.”

“Well, Mr. Macaroni,” the boy smirked at the cute nickname he had given to Blaine. He then stood up, towering Blaine. “You see this letterman jacket?” he asked, pointing at the red jacket he was wearing. Blaine thought it was a hideous article of clothing but kept his opinion for himself.

“Yes, it say letter M. Is it customary for Americanos dressing as superheroes? Should it not say L instead of M? Superman has S,” Blaine looked at him, bewildered, still unsure how this would go and why the boy was cosplaying at school. Maybe they had a superhero club in the school, that would be fun.

The bulky boy sighed loudly. “This is worse than detention,” he groaned sitting back down. “Just don’t talk, alright? You’re giving me a headache.”

Blaine held off the question when he saw the menacing look the boy was sending his way. He tried making out the lyrics he was forced to listen to with the boy’s iPod playing so loudly and also, Blaine noticed, with no use of headphones. He thought it was pretty rude to force others to listen to music when maybe they didn’t feel like it. But, maybe society rules in this country were different.

When a somewhat enjoyable song came on the boy’s iPod Blaine was a bit disappointed that the principal showed up and he had to go in but moments later the feeling disappeared as the anticipation of starting the classes soon took over.

He had spent good fifteen minutes taking care of the paperwork with the principal, Mr. Figgins, and soon got his exchange student folder filled with his timetable as well as some other papers he didn’t care much at that moment.

“Have the nice day,” Blaine said to his new friend and left.

He walked to his newly assigned locker and tried to open it. He didn’t understand why they couldn’t have had a key instead of this weird combination lock.

“Look, fresh meat,” he heard someone say and tried to think of why this person was surprised, maybe they didn’t get fresh food often. “Let’s give him McKinley’s welcome.”

 _Oh, silly me, they mean_ me! Blaine smiled thinking he was about make some more new friends so he turned around, his hand extended to offer a handshake or maybe a friendly pat on the back. But, instead he was hit with a sticky substance straight to his face.

 _Was the water in America sticky?_ Blaine thought idly, before remembering that he had drunk plenty of water in the house he lived in now and none of them had stuck to his face, nor was it this cold... or sweet. Blaine began trembling as he felt the sticky drink finding its way down to his underwear. He squirmed in his place uncomfortably as the boys moved past him, each shoving him with their shoulders. Blaine slid over the puddle on the floor from the force of the shoves and fell on his ass.

Blaine liked to think that he was a optimistic person. All his friends in Italy used to say that his bright outlook on life was envious. But, right now, he couldn’t help but curl his knees to his chest and long for his old school back at home. He ignored the weird looks the students were giving him and indulged a bit more in his pity party. Maybe the boy he’d met first, the letterman had been right, he should stop showing interest in people.

He didn’t let himself sit in the cold puddle for long. Standing up took some effort but soon he was back on his feet, grabbing his wet folder and trying to locate a bathroom so he could clean himself up. He rounded a corner when, he almost did a happy dance, he saw a girl covered in a similar drink, only of a different colour. She must have been new just like him, Blaine thought. Maybe it was their initiation. Now that made sense. Why would anyone attack him with mean intentions when he had done nothing wrong? And one of the boys did say that the drink meant McKinley’s welcome.

With newly found happiness and excitement that McKinely now saw him as one of their own Blaine walked over to the girl who was trying to wipe the drink off her face.

“Hi,” he said. “Are you exchange student too? Where you are from?”

The girl looked him up and down with amusement. “I’m from Lima Heights. Are you from the Shire, hobbit?”

Blaine always liked hobbits, they were friendly and adventurous just like him. It was also nicer than being called Mr. Macaroni so he nodded.

“I have hairy leg but there is not hair on my foots,” he announced proudly, glad to meet someone who knew about Lord of Rings, his favourite saga. It was one of his go to books to read when he was feeling down and even the mention of it cheered him up.

“Eew. Well, good thing that I’m already grossed out by boys. I like my girls smooth and clean shaved,” the girl snapped.

It took a few moments, in which Blaine stared, rather dumbly, at the girl to decipher what she meant.

“I shaved today?” he said, almost in a question. Blaine had always been a top student in his English class, but the way they spoke in this school was so different than what he’d read in books.

“I mean, I’m dyke,” she said and before Blaine could introduce himself with, ‘Hello, Dyke. I’m Blaine’, she clarified, “lesbiano, you idiot, so you better stay away from these,” she pointed at her breasts.

“Well,” Blaine said with equal sass, “I’m a gay so you better stay from this,” he pointed at the front of his pants, causing the girl to burst laughing and she patted his shoulder.

“I like you for whatever mysterious reason,” the girl said. “Let’s go get you cleaned up,” she said pushing him towards the girls’ bathroom.

“I cannot go in there,” Blaine’s eyes widened in horror. What if he got expelled for being inappropriate? They would send him back to Italy and disqualify his Visa.

“Stop fidgeting,” the girl let out an annoyed sigh as they finally entered the bathroom. “Get your head under the faucet.”

“Under... a what?” Blaine looked at her, confused.

The girl pointed at the sink. “I. will. wash. your. hair, hobbit,” she said slowly, demonstrating every single word with movements.

“I am Blaine Anderson,” the boy introduced himself when he lowered his head into the sink, thinking that the girl was using the nickname only because she didn’t know his name.

“Don’t care,” she said and Blaine felt cold water running over his head.

“What’s... your... name?” the boy slurped, water running into his mouth and a little bit into his nose.

“Santana Lopez,” the girl responded.

“Nice to meet you,” Blaine said and tried to extend his hand to shake hers but only grabbed air. “You did not answer the country you are from.”

The girl tugged painfully on his hair. “My family came here many years ago, but originally we’re from Mexico.”

“Oh, so you are not new student?” Blaine asked and Santana shook her head, before realizing that he couldn’t see her so she replied with a ‘no’.

“So, why did those boys throw drinks at you?” Blaine asked, confused. “I thought it is initiation of new people.”

“Well, you’re awfully naive, aren’t you?” Santana responded and then sighed, “You chose a messed up school to spill your fairy dust on. The jocks are going to eat you alive.”

When she realized Blaine didn’t understand what she meant, she dropped the sarcasm, which was as rare as it was for Principal Figgins to drop his pants in the middle of the school.

“Look, Blaine,” she said, getting the last bits of ice out of his curls. “This school is a hard place to survive. If you are different, you’ll be treated like garbage. And you’re like...” Santana ruffled his hair trying to get her point across the thick mop, “really really different.”

“What should I do?” Blaine asked, helpless as the droplets of water dripped on his clothes when he stood up.

“Have courage,” Santana told him, “and stick with the other freaks.”

Blaine wanted to ask what she was talking about but for once decided to pretend he understood what was going on.

He began washing out the sticky drink out of the girl’s hair wondering what he should do to become friends with these freaks Santana told him about, and for starters, how to find them.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It took a while for Blaine to wash Santana’s hair, even though she wasn’t cursed with curly mop of hair, it was still so much longer than his. And by the end of it his fingers were turning to ice. He blew some warm air over them since they were beginning to sting.

The bell rang the moment the girl got her head out of the sink. She dried them a little with some tissues just so the water would stop dripping and checked her makeup in the mirror. “I’m outta here, I still need to dry my hair and I can’t do it here,” Santana said walking out of the bathroom. She stopped and smirked. “And you should do something about your pants.”

Blaine looked down suddenly feeling ashamed of his looks. Probably half of the school had seen him walking in wet pants, thinking he had peed himself. He would never be able to live that down.

“Thank,” Blaine smiled at the girl as she left with after responding with ‘whatever’. Blaine had never heard such substitute for ‘you are welcome’.

He knew he should have gone to class, missing his first class ever at the new school wasn’t something he wanted to do, but he had to. With a heavy sigh Blaine took his pants off and started washing the drink out of them, and then looked around terrified. He wondered if the bathrooms in America have a hand dryer for him to use to dry his pants, silently scolding himself for not checking if the hand dryer was working beforehand. Well, worst case scenario, maybe he could convince the students that wet pants were trendy in Europe.

Blaine was humming to some Italian song, warm air from the dryer blowing loudly when the door of the bathroom opened and he jumped, startled by the sounds of several people gasping.

“Freak!” a shrill voice rang loud and clear in the now crowded bathroom.

“Pervert!”

“Get out of here!” the girls started to chant.

A group of teenage girls, armed with nothing but their makeup bags started yelling at him. Soon more girls trickled into the bathroom and the sounds mixed together. It was a true chaos, something straight from Blaine’s worst nightmares.

“I am sorry so... please,” he begged, holding his hands up to show that he wasn’t a threat but it only made them notice his wet pants and the fact that he was in his boxers. A loud eruption of giggles and laughter followed, making Blaine want to melt into the ground. His ears were burning and the wet substance in his underwear was making him shiver. He pinched himself hoping to wake up but nothing happened. It was his reality.

“The hell is going on, girls?” a rough voice said, successfully silencing everyone.

“The newbie peed himself,” a girl snickered, earning a few giggles from the group.

“So? He’s cleaning it up. And unless he’s a smurf, seeing that he’s covered in blue, the only possible explanation is that he’s been slushied, you morons. Now before I show you the wrath of Puckzilla, go dump makeup on yourselves somewhere else.”

When the girls made no move, Blaine’s saviour sighed loudly and started walking slowly towards them. “Get. the fuck. out of. here!” he growled and the girls ran out of the bathroom without as much as a glance at the half naked boy. “I hate those dumb bitches. Now let’s go.”

“What?” Blaine gulped, still shocked after what had happened. “I cannot go like this. My pants still wet,” he said gesturing to the article of clothing that had offended so many people.

“I have a change of clothes in my locker, you can wear them today,” the boy with the weirdest hairdo ever said and walked towards the door.

Blaine really wanted to follow. This boy was giving him a chance to forgo drying his pants and being stuck in the girls’ bathroom. Sure, he was taller but he could always roll the pants up. The problem was walking down the corridor with no pants. He said that much to his hero.

“First of all, you have sexy legs,” the boy said and Blaine’s eyes widened. He had never been flirted with. “And secondly, I’m the badass of this school. If you are with me, you are cool. Just walk with confidence and it will be fine.”

“I am not sure-” Blaine began but was pulled out of the bathroom harshly, luckily managing to grab his folder first.

Even somewhat friendly Americans were really impatient, and wanted everything to happen as fast as possible. If only they did it all gently, Blaine thought as his wrist started to hurt.

The boy let go of his hand after he made sure that he was following him. Blaine feared that maybe he could read his mind.

“You has a bad ass? Do it hurt? Do you fart lots?” Blaine asked.

“Are you dumb or something? Or did you just diss my round ass?” he turned around to face Blaine.

Blaine stared at the angry boy for a few seconds, before stuttering,“Mmm, I-I did not. Your ass look nice. Sorry.”

“Listen, curly. As long as you don’t fuck around with my ass or mohawk,” the boy ruffled the strange spiky hair affectionately when they reached his locker, “you’ll be under my protection. Understood?”

Blaine nodded, worried that he might somehow offend the boy further with his words. He couldn’t understand what the boy meant by ‘fucking around’. Was it possible to have sex ‘around’ something? Did Americans have weird kinky anal sex involving hair? Blaine had to wait to ask these questions, because it seemed that the boy, however friendly, didn’t like his questions much.

“Here, put these on!” the boy, Puckzilla, shoved a pair of leather pants and a t-shirt into his arms.

“I do like Disco,” he protested when he saw that on the t-shirt ‘Disco Sucks’ was written in bold letters.

The boy looked at him but said nothing and Blaine remembered his resolve that he was not supposed to talk. He really didn’t want to ruin his new friendship so he just thanked him with a nod and went to look for a proper, gender appropriate, bathroom this time. He soon found it and changed into Puckzilla’s clothes. They were a bit tight but damned did he look hot. Blaine spun around and posed, making tough faces in the mirror.

He set his wet clothes on one of the sinks and went to relieve himself. He didn’t feel the need to but since he was already in the bathroom he thought it couldn’t hurt. Besides, maybe he would get lost and wouldn’t be able to find any bathroom when he really needed to pee.

He heard the noise of the door being opened when he was in the middle of his business. He looked around to see a familiar face. “Hi, Kurt,” he smiled widely.

“Hey, Blaine,” the boy covered his eyes immediately. “How... was your day?”

“Pretty good so far,” Blaine explained and zipped his pants up. “I made several friends but I haven’t gone to any classes yet, unfortunately.”’

“Why didn’t you go to class? You seemed to be pretty excited about it in the morning,” Kurt asked spraying something on his beautiful hair.

Blaine went to wash his hands and stood next to the boy. “I was given McKinley’s welcome and had to clean up.”

“Oh,” Kurt said, looking at the boy sadly, “and whose clothes are these?” he asked.

He liked to think that he was the most fashionable student in this school, females included and he was a great critic in all things when it came to clothes. He had to admit while this badboy look was so cliché, still it was a huge improvement from the grandpa clothes Blaine would wear.

Before Blaine could find the words to reply, Kurt knew the answer. There was only one person who thought looking like Danny Zuko was still cool and was adamant on the theory that disco was for pussies and that was the one and only...

"Noah. Lovely," he sighed.

"Where? Who is lovely?" Blaine asked, bewildered.

"Did Noah give these clothes to you?" Kurt repeated much slower than before. The trick to get a coherent answer from his new guest was to never say more than one sentence at a time and wait for a nod before starting the next. Not using sarcasm was also another must.

"I don’t have a clue who Noah is, but the guy said he was Puckzilla and apparently he has a bad ass, whatever that means,” Blaine answered, his eyes squinting and then his whole face brightened and he told Kurt with a big smile, “He told me I got sexy legs."

“Did he now?” Kurt laughed loudly, happy that the boy had survived his first hour at McKinley and still was as cheerful as ever.

“So you got everything you need for the next class?” Kurt asked and waited for Blaine to nod. “Alright, I’ll walk you there. Since you seem to be going down the social ladder well enough without me, it won’t harm you to be seen with me I guess. Unless you mind?”

“No, I like walking with you. You’re my friend and by far the nicest American I have met so far, even nicer than the dyke that wanted to shave her girls,” Blaine answered and looked at Kurt with a wide grin.

Kurt decided not to comment on that any further. It felt good to use Blaine’s friendliness while it lasted. He feared that soon even the naive boy was going to see that he was no good for a friend. He decided to take those several days he had and enjoy them.

They walked out of the bathroom and to Blaine’s locker first so that he could leave his morning clothes there. Kurt didn’t approve of leaving wet clothes in a pile since it wasn’t good for the material but there was nothing they could do at that point.

“I have several American questions for you,” Blaine said when they started walking to his class.

“Shoot,” Kurt said looking for something in his satchel. When Blaine didn’t answer he looked up and saw that Blaine was looking slightly terrified.

“Um, do you have a gun? I don’t have a gun. And I don’t want to shoot anyone,” he frowned a little, upset. “Please, don’t make me.”

“It means, ‘ask me’, not literally shooting,” his host explained.

Blaine giggled. “That’s a weird expression but of course. Okay, so... What’s a new bee? Is it normal to cosplay here? Are all bathrooms unisex here even though it doesn’t say so? How can you fuck around with ass and hair? And most importantly, how do I know which freaks to befriend? You’ll help me find them, right?” he asked looking at Kurt with wide expectant eyes.

Kurt opened his mouth several times but didn’t say anything. Finally he settled with, “This year is going to be a real pain in the ass...”

“Does your ass hurt too? Are you in pain? What should I do?” Blaine asked, staring at Kurt’s butt with concern, growing anxious by each passing second.

“Just... follow me, newbie,” he said, shaking his head and gently leading him to one of the classes they apparently shared.

“Bzzz,” Blaine imitated a bee on his way and started circling Kurt, eliciting a laugh from the other boy. Now that he had Kurt with him, everything was just...grand.


	3. Chapter 3

Kurt was leading Blaine to their shared class, hoping that the boy could survive his first day at the new school. He was worried that the naive, overly cheerful Italian would be eaten alive at McKinley. By the looks of it so far, he feared it would happen sooner rather than later. He didn’t want that to happen , not on his watch .  He wished he had glee club by his side to help him out on keeping Blaine safe  but he wasn’t lucky enough .

Kurt started to daydream about the time he found out  from his dad that they’d be host ing a  foreign exchange  student.  At first Kurt had begrudgingly agreed to share his room with a total stranger and move half of his stuff out of the closet. The horror of storing away his beloved clothes in the attic was unbearable. But, the plus side was that at the end of the school year, with this ‘Blaine’ gone, Kurt would be able to go France, just like he wanted, and live with a host family there for his junior year of high school. So, he gritted his teeth and vowed to take good care of the boy.

But then, something in Blaine intrigued him and his bright outlook on life almost seemed straight from the movies or books and not in this shitty town. At first he was wary of the boy, especially on the day he had arrived to Ohio but then he let himself enjoy his presence. He found out that they had a lot in common and Kurt couldn’t remember the last time he laughed as much as he did while reading Vogue with Blaine commenting on everything he saw in the magazine. If it wasn’t the thought of going back to school clouding his temporary happiness, his last days of summer holiday would have been great. Unfortunately, he had to go back to school.

“Hey, fresh meat. Whatchu doin’ hangin’ out with the fairy?” a mean voice startled Kurt and he saw  a  group of jocks with Karofsky, their ever present leader, pointing at them.

Kurt acted on an impulse and placed himself between  Blaine and Karofsky, effectively taking the shove and got slammed into the locker. He grimaced in pain and closed his eyes to collect himself. He took several calming breaths before opening his eyes only to be met with Blaine’s worried face. He had never seen the boy so serious.

“Are you okay, Kurt? Are you hurt? Let me see,” he asked lifting Kurt’s sweater up to see the damage.

Kurt slapped Blaine’s hand away, not wanting the students to be offended by the m touching , and tugged his sweater down.

“Gotta go, see you in class,” he muttered and quickly walked away, making sure to disappear in the crowd so that the boy couldn’t follow him. 

Kurt wasn’t sure why he did that because for a moment it felt so good to be cared for. But then he realised he had acted on an instinct that told him to protect himself. This time from somebody who was trying to comfort him.  Shit, he’d been so stupid.

Blaine’s worry and eagerness to help him were so unfamiliar to him that he had to run away from the boy. He felt ashamed, humiliated even. At home Blaine saw him as a snarky, confident roommate. At school he was nothing more than jocks’ punching bag and now their guest knew it.

Kurt took a longer route to the class thinking of how he would fix this mess. A selfish part of him longed being cared for but the proud part of him wanted to drive it away. The conflict was making his head hurt. Maybe he could convince Blaine that it was some sort of joke Americans played on each other or an over ly friendly pat on the back, but he doubted Blaine, no matter how naive he was, would believe it.

Kurt sat  down in his seat in front of the class and started sorting  through his pencils  mindlessly . He saw Mercedes wheeling Artie into the class room and they passed him without as much as a glance, even though Kurt waved at them.

With the events of the morning and the locker shove, Kurt had forgotten that Blaine was also in this class. So he was  slightly surprised when a few moments after the teacher entered, he heard a familiar voice.

“Umm, me excuse you. This is class sophomore AP Math, yes?” he asked, before spotting Kurt and breaking into a  bright  smile.

It made Kurt chuckle and then feel guilty for abandoning the boy who had no idea where to go. It was also endearing to watch Blaine struggle his way to speak English, when Kurt knew for a fact that when they were alone he spoke English perfectly, even using advanced words that Kurt hadn’t expected him to know. He remembered the boy telling him that he felt perfectly relaxed around him so it made it easier for him to speak, when he didn’t have to worry about correct grammar. 

Kurt felt a warm feeling settling inside him knowing he was somewhat special to Blaine until he remembered the Finn fiasco and chastised himself for even thinking about Blaine in more than platonic way. After causing his fellow glee club member the humiliation of having a gay guy lusting over him, as he so inappropriately did by serenading Finn a love song during one of the glee practices, Kurt didn’t want the same to happen to his guest.  He doubted that McKinley students would care that this time he was crushing on a gay boy, they would still see Kurt having feelings as disgusting.

"Yes, this is the right class. Mr. Anderson, I assume?" the teacher said and Blaine turned around to face her.

"Yes, that me," he nodded eagerly. "Can I sits with Kurt?" he asked pointing at the empty seat next to the boy.

The class fell silent immediately and everyone held their breath s as they waited for the teacher's decision. Nobody had ever wanted to sit with Kurt willingly. If Blaine sat next to him, he would be drowning in slushies by the end of the day.

"I prefer sitting alone," Kurt hurried to tell the teacher, missing a hurt look on Blaine’s face since he deliberately looked anywhere but at him.

I’m sorry Blaine, this is for your own good... and for my inevitable heartbreak, Kurt thought sadly as he watched Blaine stomp his way to the back row. When the boy was passing by him, Kurt smiled at him apologetically; he didn't want the boy to think he had anything personal against him.

Blaine didn’t miss the gesture and seemed to change his mind mid-way. Kurt watched astonished as Blaine strutted towards Kurt’s seat and put his bag onto the floor before sinking down in the seat next to him, looking around with his eyebrows raised as if challenging anyone to speak. The tension was palpable and Kurt’s hand shook while he was picking up his notebook from his backpack, expecting a rude  comment from one of the students .

“I don’t see why not,” the teacher replied dismissively, before turning around to the whiteboard to begin the lesson.  

“What are you doing?” Kurt asked angrily, leaning towards Blaine and whispering so the teacher wouldn’t hear.

“I am learning math s ,” Blaine announced happily, not taking his eyes off the board. 

He seemed so eager to learn that Kurt’s anger almost vanished just by the sight of him concentrating, pulling out a small dictionary every now and then and looking up some words.

“You’re gonna get yourself killed,” Kurt sighed unhappily after a while when he decided that it was no use to try to talk to Blaine when he was so focused on the teacher.

“Is this one of your American expressions?” Blaine asked, a bit uneasy, finally looking up from his notebook.

“No, but they’re going to torture you if you side with me. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not exactly Mister Popularity.”

"Well, you should be," Blaine shrugged. "You are funny, smart, and witty. You also share your raisins so I don't see how someone may not like you. Doesn't make sense to me."

"Mr Anderson, it's not a good way to start a new school by interrupting the class," the teacher scolded the boy.

"I am sorry, I just asking Kurt what 'differentiation' means. I not know this word," Blaine lied smoothly. "My dictionary not helps," he added raising the book.

"Well, um... Next time talk more silently if you need to ask something," the teacher stuttered uncomfortably and Kurt guessed it was the first time she had a foreign exchange student in her class and  she probably didn’t want to offend him. 

"Okay," Blaine gave her a wide smile and went back to his notes. 

Kurt eyed him for a moment  but soon  concentrated on his own work when Blaine showed no interest in continuing the conversation. He was lost in some maths problems when he saw a single candy being pushed towards him. He looked at Blaine questioningly but was ignored by the boy. He saw a piece of paper under the candy and read it:  Call me childish but candies make everything so much better and you look like someone who could use some sweetness to wipe that frown off your face.

“Thanks,” he whispered, smiling at the boy who was now looking at him, gauging his reaction.

“Not that you aren’t sweet yourself,” Blaine told, grinning widely as he  watched Kurt unwrapping the paper and letting the sweet, minty caramel melt inside his mouth.

They spent  the rest of the class  quietly discussing math s . Soon, the bell rang and the first one to jump up from his seat was an over ly -excited Blaine.

“Fooood,” he cheered, earning a few raised eyebrows from his other classmates.

“So, I take  it,  you’re ready for your first lunch at McKinley?” Kurt asked, laughing as the boy nodded eagerly.

“Okay, okay. Let’s get you something to eat. We should make a stop at the lockers first to drop our bags off and then go.”

“Is your bag heavy? I can carry it for you,” Blaine offered and Kurt’s heart warmed at the thought.

“Thanks, but I ’d rather  put  it away so no ‘accidents’ will happen to it,” he explained  vaguely .

“Okey dokey,” Blaine agreed easily and it took a lot of effort for Kurt not to wrap his arms around him as the y walked  down  the hallway to their lockers.


	4. Chapter 4

Blaine didn’t understand Kurt, he really didn’t. At first he was his friend, then he left him alone in the hallway and didn’t want to sit with him, but as soon as the Italian showed his persistence to his host, Kurt went back to being friendly. Blaine’s head was spinning, it was all too confusing for him. He wondered if the tall guy who lived with Kurt would know anything about the boy’s mood swings. But, until he found out the truth, Blaine decided to play along and enjoy Kurt’s company whenever he got a chance.

“You are awfully silent,” Kurt said as he was putting his bag into his locker, which was assigned close to Blaine’s. It was a convenient way to keep an eye on the boy so he wouldn’t get lost while he was still getting acquainted to the school. “I don’t think you’ve been silent for more than five minutes since I met you.”

“I am just trying to take it all in, my first day at school and all,” Blaine shrugged. “Culture is very difficult here than in Italy.”

“Different,” Kurt corrected him and closed his locker. “Is it a bad different?”

Blaine thought for a second. “I do not know yet. It is hard to read people, they are weird,” he laughed remembering Puckzilla and Dyke. “But if you help me I might be able to not get myself ‘eaten alive’ in here,” he said laughing and making quotation marks as he spoke.

“Yeah, you might wanna stick with me for a while,” Kurt told him.

Blaine eyebrows got lost in his thick mop of hair as he pondered over how he should stick with Kurt.

“Do you want me to bring glue?” he concluded at last, sounding extremely puzzled. "But you would have to tell me where to get it because I don't have any in my bag."

Americans were so weird. But, he liked to think that he could understand Kurt to some degree. Clearly that wasn’t the case.

Kurt pinched the bridge of his nose and took several deep breaths before trying to explain the expression. He advised the boy not to ‘shoot first, talk later’, to which the boy panicked even more. All those idioms were giving Blaine a headache.

They finally reached the cafeteria and Blaine tried to see and smell everything. It didn’t smell quite as well as at home, but, Blaine shrugged, food was the best thing ever so he knew he would enjoy it nevertheless.

Before they joined the queue, a huge soccer player approached them, with his tray full of food, some stew held out towards them. Blaine smiled, thinking that the kind stranger was offering them his food so they wouldn’t need to wait in a queue and smiled gratefully at the boy.

"Duck!" Kurt shouted and Blaine looked around to see where the duck was. It wasn't until he felt a lukewarm stew being thrown at him that he realised Kurt meant it as a verb, not a noun.

Blaine laughed wiping the mess off his face. He licked his lips clean and shuddered. "Not wonder you throw it away, it not good," he commented to the jock that was walking away. "Can we get something else, Kurt?" he asked nonchalantly, not seeing surprised looks he was getting.

Kurt eyed him carefully. "You need to clean yourself first," he pointed out, his voice loud in the deadly silent cafeteria.

"Nah, I'm good," Blaine said and looked at the food displayed. He soon felt someone tapping him on his shoulder. When he turned around he saw a girl in red and white uniform.

"Hi, hot stuff," the girl purred. "My friends and I thought it was funny what you said to Azimio... We were wondering if you would like to sit with us."

Blaine beamed at the girl. "Sure! Right, Kurt?"

The girl looked at his host with one eyebrow raised with a cold look that Blaine couldn’t place. "I..." Kurt hesitated. "Can't..."

“What?” Blaine asked, frowning. He didn’t understand why Kurt suddenly couldn’t eat.

“I can’t,” Kurt answered, this time more composed.

“Are you not feeling well?” Blaine asked concerned. On the outside Kurt looked perfectly fine.

"He's not exactly welcome to sit with us," the girl broke the silence, unfazed by the tension between the boys. "We can't have the school's freak bring Cheerios' reputation down," she added looking straight at Blaine now, pretending Kurt didn't exist.

"She's right," Kurt said in a small voice and Blaine’s worry for the boy only increased.

"I thank you for offer but me good where Kurt is," Blaine said, raising his chin up as if challenging the girl.

Before the girl could say anything else a female voice interrupted them. "Boys, I haven't got all day. There is a long queue behind you. Bring your trays so I can feed your skinny little faces," the woman said. She was wearing a plastic hat and school's apron, looking like an angel with a ladle full of great smelling food.

The girl opened her mouth to say something.

“Girl, leave these boys alone. You got your food. Now, shoo,” she said dismissively.

Blaine’s mouth watered and he stepped forward ignoring the girl completely, who left with a loud huff.

The lunch lady filled his tray and then some more. Blaine jumped up and down in excitement of having his first American school lunch, that resulted in spilling juice all over the tray but he didn’t care about it.

“Um, thank you for standing up for me,” Kurt said shyly as they sat down at a small table. “You really didn’t have to do that. You could have had your lunch with the popular bunch. It would have made your life easier at McKinley.”

Blaine took a piece of carrot off his shirt and put it into his mouth. “In the morning one girl said I should make friends with freaks and this girl called you a freak so I figured you are one of the people I should be friends with. And I want to eat with you. You are fun.”

“You got covered in drinks and food twice on your first day, what do you think is going to happen if you tell the popular kids to fuck off?” Kurt asked playing with his food, not really eating, he noted.

Blaine shrugged not caring at all. “Free food is free food even if on clothes,” he said and took a spoonful of cabbage soup. “You should eat, Kurt. Your stomach will get sick if you do not.”

“Not hungry anymore,” the boy said and pushed his tray away. “Tell me about your school back home," he said, in an obvious attempt to stir the conversion away from his eating habits.

"It was alright, " Blaine shrugged and looked at Kurt suspiciously. He then grabbed his fork, picked some salad, and brought it near the unsuspecting boy's mouth. Kurt choked and began coughing and chewing the food pushed inside his mouth at the same time.

"Get some, Hummel, " another jock passing by sneered, whistling rudely.

Blaine didn’t seem to be affected by what had happened and was holding up the spoon at Kurt’s mouth again, singing, "here comes the chew chew train."

Kurt snatched the spoon away abruptly and tossed it carelessly back on the tray.

"I don’t think Mr. Spooney liked that," Blaine said, pretending to be offended on the spoon's behalf.

"Are you insane? Did you not hear what that ignorant bastard said?" Kurt asked angrily,  hunching over to make himself smaller, less likely to be targeted.

"I did not understand it. What did he mean when he said 'get some'? Is he worried that you do not have enough food? I can go get more if you want. I am worried too."

"No, he meant I'm getting your ass," Kurt said and rushed to clarify as he saw the boy pale and scoot away from him a bit covering his ass cheeks by sitting on his hands.

"He means to imply we're together... you know, like boyfriends or something like that," he said in a whisper.

“Oh,” Blaine finally caught up. “Does that offend you? Because it does not offend me. There's nothing wrong with being gay and having a boyfriend.”

He watched Kurt looking around quickly. “Don’t say things like that loudly here. You will get yourself killed.”

Blaine laughed. “I get it, it is one of those funny American expressions, is it not? Thought you would scare me again, huh? But you did not this time! Blaine - one, Kurt - well, several points already... Forget it.”

“Blaine, please, be serious for a moment here, okay?” Kurt pleaded. “I’m sure you are aware of the worldwide homophobia, right? Some countries and cities are more accepting than others. Lima, unfortunately, is as homophobic as they get. People get _violent_ towards guys like us. Maybe your city was more tolerant but you have to understand that you are in Lima now. Things are different here. And... I just don’t want to see you get hurt.”

Blaine nodded slowly. “I get it, Kurt, I am not stupid. But I can protect myself and if I can I want to protect you too."

"Blaine..." Kurt whispered, overcome with emotion.

"Kurt, you are a great person. If this jokes don't see it that way, well, it is their loss. Just do not let them go down on you," Blaine said, looking at him intently, one hand hovering hesitantly over Kurt’s.

Kurt surprised him by bursting into a loud laugh. Blaine smiled and waited patiently for Kurt to stop so he could ask what was so funny.

"Get you down, not go down on you. And they're called jocks, not jokes," Kurt explained.

"Potato, potaato," Blaine shrugged, not seeing the funny part but decided not to exhaust himself any longer. He had learned enough expressions for a while.

The silence was comfortable after that, interrupted only by Blaine pushing the other boy to eat more and threatening to sing 'chew chew train' again if he didn't cooperate. After a while Kurt gave in and they enjoyed the rest of the lunch without anyone bothering them again. But just in case, Blaine stayed extra cautious, making sure nobody was coming over to hurt or taunt them.


End file.
